


Scared to Death

by dralexreid



Series: Dr Piper Bishop [9]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27041722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dralexreid/pseuds/dralexreid
Relationships: Dr Spencer Reid/Dr Piper Bishop
Series: Dr Piper Bishop [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972852
Kudos: 29





	1. Part 1

Piper sat cross-legged in her chair, turning her badge between her hands, staring at her Converse shoes. She kept replaying the events of the last few days, analysing them to a tee. What had gone wrong? Their team had messed up. Instead of catching the killer as planned, their last case had ended in a tragic double homicide-suicide. A young student shot her crush on a security guard just before shooting herself. She wouldn’t blame Gideon, not after everything he’d been through. Why didn’t you question him? Why didn’t you analyse the risks? In truth, she’d missed it. She missed him. He could be frosty and stubborn as a mule, but she wouldn’t have this job without him. She wouldn’t have had this family without him. And then he just left. Left the team. Left her. Left Spencer. She glanced at the other doctor, Gideon’s scrawled handwriting in his hands. For as long as she knew them, Gideon was a father figure to Reid. Playing chess together. Walking through a profile together. She never knew the allure of a father figure, but Gideon was the first to recognise Spence. The first to see him as more than a genius. She was broken out of these thoughts by Garcia announcing something to the squad, carrying Gideon’s belongings.

“He left everything, except for the photographs.”

“He always said those were like his family,” Spencer muttered as Derek shared a look with Emily.

“What should we do with all of this?” Garcia walked down to join them, plopping the box on Piper’s desk. Piper bit back a retort to Penelope, her eye caught on something in the box. She reached into the box to pull out the copy of Thomas Moore’s poetry collection. Inside she reread the neat inscription she’d written. “It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never beginning to live.” Her eyes stung with tears and she blinked them away as she stowed the little book into her go-bag. She met Derek’s piercing gaze but quickly flitted her eyes away to see Erin Strauss striding towards Hotch’s office. Without saying a word, Piper pushed herself off the chair and into the conference room.

4 victims in Oregon, 2 male and 2 female. 7 agents in the BAU, 4 female, 3 male. Hotch took over JJ’s briefing. “I know that we’ve all been wondering what this was all about. And, uh… You know I’ve known Jason for many years, and I can tell you I have no idea. But it doesn’t even matter. What matters is we’re here, and we’re gonna continue.” Except it did matter to them. Piper didn’t have to glance at Spencer to feel his heartbreak nor see his devastation. Piper didn’t have to know Jason for very long to know that he poured his heart into every case or that he blamed himself for every case gone south or that the death of Sarah Jacobs was killing him softly. “Portland field office uncovered a mass grave with 3 bodies, killed 6 months ago. Nearby they found another body. Causes of death range from burning alive to asphyxiation. No sexual assault.” Morgan took a sip of his coffee and Bishop twirled a spoon through her cup of tea.

“Well, the torture’s clearly sadistic.” 

“The lack of sexual preferences could make it hard to tell if the unsub is male or female.”

“Typically, female serial killers stick to the same M. O. It looks like this guy’s all over the place. “

“Forensic countermeasure?” Piper suggested, going through her file. “Could be a form of paranoia, like we’ll find them at any moment. Or the cause of death is specific to each victim.”

“Suffocation is deeply personal but immolation is aggressive and impersonal,” Reid announced to the woman opposite him. “Both forms of sadism.”

“Immolation was actually the preferred procedure of purification and the ultimate ritual sacrifice.” Piper’s eyes lit up while she talked about a murder in the Middle Ages, as you do. “In medieval times, immolation was the romanticised go-to method for killing witches and is still the favoured symbol of hell and sinners. Maybe the unsub felt like they deserved it or that they were sinners?”

“Most recent victim is Jenny Whitman. Asphyxiated. Discovered yesterday.”

“How long was she missing?” 

“She was never reported missing.” Piper looked up at Hotch.

“What about the others?”

“One.”

“Out of 4?”

“Rick Holland was reported missing 9 months ago, but the search was called off. The family discovered his car at the train station. But more importantly, they received emails from him saying that he needed time to figure things out.”

“And they believed that?” Morgan leaned back in his chair.

“He was in his late 20s. At that age, most adults start questioning their life choices, where they want their future to lead. Especially men who do social work. It was a feasible conclusion.” Piper wrung her hands through her hair. “His house was left unlocked too. Jesus,” she exhorted.

“Can’t save us now,” Reid whispered with a smirk at Piper. She returned a small smile.

“Reaching out could be a sign of remorse,” Morgan remarked, ignoring the exchange in front of him.

“Psychopaths don’t apologize for their behaviour. This guy’s covering his tracks. Wheels up in 30.”

^-^

Spencer got up from his seat next to Piper to grab another cup of coffee. Piper raised an eyebrow before turning to Hotch. “What number cup is that?”

“His fifth?”

“Seventh.” Morgan chimed in. “He had gone after the briefing, one on the ride.”

“Should we have an intervention?” Emily joked. They had been going over Portland PD’s findings, which were limited at best. One female and 2 male victims found buried together in the same grave. All 25 to 30. All had been dead for 6 months with 3 different MOs. Reid and Bishop were debating over whether the kills could be personal or need-based. It wasn’t very effective.

“Gary Taylor, the phantom sniper, was all over the map, just like this guy. He changed his M.O. as his need to control the situation changed,” Reid put forward.

“Except Gary Taylor was a hebephile who specifically targeted women and went from incapacitating them with a hammer to shooting them as he evolved.” Piper rebutted from her seat. “There’s no evolution here.”

“Okay, but what about the robbing and stabbing?”

“Granted, but his need to control the situation changed whenever his sexual urges overcame him because he did not plan the offences. These are deliberate and thought-out.” Reid huffed, pulling out his copy of A Comedy of Errors. Emily smiled and held out her fist. Piper bumped it, smiling widely. A small beep rang out next to Piper, a whisper leaking out of the computer.

 _“Hey. You.”_ Reid slowly raised his head, twisting it towards the window. “ _Uh…down here.”_

 _“_ Right. I knew that.” Spencer moved to take a seat next to Piper, facing Garcia on the little screen.

“ _Good thing you’re handsome, doctor.”_ Piper and Derek smirked. “ _Attention my fine furry peaches – this killer continues to stoop to an all-time low of lows by posing as his victims. He’s also manipulated 2 of the families into thinking that everything was ok, even after they were reported missing. One of the fake e-mails was from their daughter. She said she met this guy and was taking him to her favourite place, Australia, for a couple of weeks. The family contacted the Australian authorities after too much time had passed. This guy sure knows a lot of personal information about his victims. When I find more pieces of the puzzle, you’ll know. Garcia out.”_

“Let’s go over the details one more time just to make sure we haven’t missed anything.”

^-^

Bishop filed into the crowded police station with the weary agents where JJ would introduce them to the lead detective on the case, only for her to leave with the boys to Jenny’s apartment. She physically groaned when Reid and Morgan lined up in the 2 max elevator, Hotch forcing her up the steps, promising her Jack stories. Hotch heard a faint ringing on the 300th step from the elevator while they were swapping Halloween stories. “So my brother wouldn’t be anything other than a Cyberman- Something up Hotch?”

“You hear that?” Piper shook her head. “It’s probably nothing.”

“So Lucy and I spent about a month’s pocket money on silver paint and buttons and I swear the house almost became silver-”

About a few minutes ago, Spencer and Derek felt guilty about leaving an exhausted Piper with Aaron, but the doors had already closed. Derek leant silently on the side of the elevator while Spencer mentally reread the letter Gideon had left him when the elevator stopped. Spencer frowned, looking around the elevator, Derek jamming the buttons on the wall. “Don’t do that.”

“Why isn’t it moving?“

“I don’t know. Don’t–stop it! Don’t…”

“What? What’s the problem?” Morgan glanced quizzically at his colleague.

“Don’t do that!” Reid’s voice went a tone higher.

“Why not?”

“Because there are 6 elevator related deaths per year, not to mention 10,000 injuries that require hospitalization. Chill out.” At this point, Reid was glued to the back wall, clinging for dear life in the rickety old elevator.

“That sounds like pretty good odds to me.” Morgan chuckled. “Are you scared, Reid?”

“I’m not scared. I don’t want to be in an elevator with you, to be honest.”

“How about I push that? What if I push–”

“Hit the..hit the.. yeah.” Reid shakily pointed at the emergency button poking out of the wall. “Push it!”

“Push, pull, push, pull. I’m doing it. Nothing’s happening.” Morgan yelled, exasperated. Reid started flapping his right hand in the direction of the elevator doors.

“Pry–pry– pry the door open.”

“It’s stuck, man.” Morgan tried to wrest the door open to no avail. The elevator dropped a foot lower before halting again. He jumped to the wall for support. “No, no, no, no. Not today. No, not today.” Spencer’s voice jumped an octave higher as he called for “Hotch!” They finally burst out of the tiny elevator and Spencer collided into Piper. 

“You okay?”

“I’ll get back to you on that.” Piper laughed her musical laugh as they headed into Jenny’s apartment.

“I’m gonna be honest, this looks exactly like your apartment, Pipes.”

“Very funny, Morgan. At least I don’t leave takeout boxes everywhere.” Piper checked the answering machine. Nothing. “Pretty sure I saw one in your sink.”

“The place has a lived-in feel to it.” Spencer scoffed. Piper got up from her crouch next to the TV to look at Reid.

“Morgan!” She yelled out to the other agent. “Spencer’s broken!” Derek popped his head out of the bathroom, eyebrow raised at Piper. “He just made a joke.” 

“I can make jokes,” Spencer pouted. Piper just smiled before following Morgan as he beckoned them. 

“There are bath products all around the tub, but she never turned the shower on.” He pulled the curtain aside to reveal the boxes Jenny kept in storage.

“Guys, this may sound a little…I dunno…but I had this patient once. He had this severe claustrophobia. He’d have anxiety attacks just getting into the shower. We changed his entire lifestyle to suit it.” Piper pointed to the tub. She glanced at the landlord standing glumly outside. “Sorry, sir, did Jenny ever use the elevator?”

“Come to think of it, nah. It was kinda weird.”

“It could just be ‘cause the elevator is a piece of sh-”

“I think we need to look at this from another angle,” Piper remarked, interrupting Morgan, lost in thought.

^-^

The others gathered around the board to discuss the newest murder as Piper scribbled frantically on the board. “Fire, hanging, asphyxiation. Now we’ve got a drowning.“

“Maybe we should go over our profile again,” JJ suggested.

> “The unsub is a male sadist in his 40s, craves control coming from a place of weakness, trying to demonstrate strength, likely abused in his childhood. He has been very meticulous at every stage, from how he chooses his victims, to their torture, and their burial. The victims appear to be non-specific, other than being new to Portland, and all they seem to share is a tortuous death. The tortures lack a sexual component and, as a result, it is believed that it is not about exerting power but overcompensating for a lack of it. The lack of sexual assault could be as simple as suggesting impotence, something that the unsub is trying to hide. He feels powerless in his everyday life, so he would most likely crave stability and security. Most likely married, possibly adopting a child to keep up appearances if he is impotent. The victims willingly put themselves in the situations that killed them, meaning the unsub is probably a figure of authority or someone easily trusted.”

“Hold up.” Piper moved towards the board. “Fire. Hanging. Asphyxiation. Drowning. Where’s that marker?” Slowly, she scribbled under each photo their respective C.O.D. Pyrophobia. Helterphobia. Claustrophobia. Aquaphobia.

“They all have phobias,” Reid pointed out.

“Phobias are an integral feature of anxiety disorders,” Piper explained to JJ and Hotch. “They share features of excessive fear and anxi­ety and related behavioural disturbances. Specifically, fear is the emotional response to real or per­ceived imminent threat, whereas anxiety is the anticipation of future threat. It’s right out of the diagnostics and statistical manual.”

“So like irrational fears?”

“Yeah, exactly. Except phobias can be very specific. The DSMV lists 5 subtypes of phobias; animal, natural envi­ronment, blood injection injury, situational, and other situations. The most common way to solve these specific phobias is…”

“What?”

“Exposure therapy. These people are being killed by their fears.”


	2. Part 2

As Piper and JJ left to grab food for the team, Spencer sat next to Emily, twisting the marker in his hands. “So Hotch is even more intense now that Gideon’s gone,” Emily started.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” he scoffed.

“Do you think that’s going to change?”

“I certainly think we’ll find out.”

“What about you? You ok?” Reid snorted.

“Oh, I’m–I’m great.” Emily smiled sadly at the taller agent. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“What’s there to talk about, really?”

“Gideon.”

“Oh, no. He uh.. left a letter, explaining everything. Just like my dad did when he abandoned me and my mom.” A lump formed in Spencer’s throat. He wanted to trust Emily, and letting down his shield, he let out what was bothering him beyond Gideon leaving. The fact that it kept happening. The man was a statistician. He knew what the common thread was, he just didn’t want to address the notion that he was the problem. “You know, Gideon stood toe to toe with some of the sickest people on this planet. I think that took a lot of courage, right? So, why’d he do this?” Reid’s hand flitted to his pocket, pulling out the folded note. “It’s addressed to me, but I’m–I’m not– I’m not the only one that he abandoned.” Reid held out the note to Emily, about to walk away.

“He addressed it to you, Spencer. I think you need to read that note again.” Spencer just tilted his head at her, eyes threatening to narrow down at her.

“I have an eidetic memory Emily, I-“

“Yeah and an IQ of 187, but what do you remember about your father?” She watched him shrug before continuing. “He gave you 10 years of his life and yet you’ve erased all those memories. And–it’s too painful. I get it. But then Gideon leaves. I think you need to read that letter again, and ask yourself why, of all the people he walked away from, did he only explain himself to one person. You.” Reid sat, mulling over Emily’s words while the latter practically collapsed onto Piper holding takeout food. JJ and Piper explained that they should examine each victim’s surroundings. Morgan and Bishop would take memberships Patrick Walker joined while Prentiss and Reid would take the laundromat near his apartment.

In the laundromat, Emily and Spencer split up, examining the posters and washing machines in the establishment. “So, we have washers and dryers, and… We have a bulletin board.” She called out to the other doctor munching on-

“Snack machine.” Emily scoffed and Reid stuffed.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s luring them away with pretzels.” Emily gazed back at the bulletin board, vaguely aware of the other two agents near her. 

“Hey, well, Patrick Walker just joined a pretty sweet boxing gym, but that’s about it.”

“Depends if you find sweaty, grunting men pretty sweet.” Piper scoffed. “You guys find anything?” She raised an eyebrow at Emily perusing the notices.

“Babysitter, buy a car… Ooh, look at this baby. Participate in a controlled research project and you’ll receive 100 bucks to get over your anxieties. You only have to attend 2 sessions? 2 hours of your time, 100 bucks–an easy sell. Just one stub’s taken.”

“We should go over to victim number 2’s coffee shop, see if any of these are hanging around. If all of our victims saw these fliers, we just figured out how he casts his net.”

The group gathered in their designated room with the lead detective. 

“These fliers have all been hanging in places where our victims could have seen them. Look at the date. Friday, August 25. That was last summer. If he’s been luring victims for that long– there could be more victims that we missed,” Emily relayed her findings to the team. “Piper and Derek are checking out the trail so we need to go.”

Piper stood by the ridge, pale, sunglasses hiding her eyes from the group as they rallied next to her. “The trail’s 40 miles long. 8 graves, 12 bodies. He didn’t stick to a pattern and we have 12 more victims.”

“Where’s Derek?”

“Explaining himself to Garcia.” Emily raised an eyebrow at Piper’s weak smirk.

“About what?”

“The elevator freak out.” They turned to watch him exasperatedly talking to Garcia over the phone.

“She’s gonna grill him alive, isn’t she?”

^-^

“Baby girl, there’s nothing to know. I hit a couple of buttons. It got stuck. That’s it. What do you want?”

 _“And?”_ Her teasing voice rang through the phone clutched to his ear.

“Ok, I freaked out, a little bit.” His next words were drowned out by Penelope’s laughs. “Look here, you little busybody, I know you traced that number for me 5 minutes ago, so give it up.“

_“Ah, yes. Changing the subject. It’s listed as The Goodman Institute.”_

“What the hell’s that?” 

_“I’ve beyond googled this thing. To the untrained eye, it looks totally legit. Someone went to great lengths to make the website decent. The articles are well written. But, as my brilliant and bespectacled eyes can see, they all lead to dead ends.”_

“Well, then what is it?” 

_“A bogus business that claims to be the leading researcher in behavioural therapy.”_


	3. Part 3

As the new information was mulled over by the group, Morgan saw Piper’s eyes harden and she crossed her arms. He heard voices in the car ride to the station but not hers. He noticed her rubbing her temple as she perused the questionnaire. He noticed her retort that this so-called doctor probably learned the craft in the 80s, back when anxieties were called phobias, but the questions are too clinical to be an amateur's before scoffing at the idea that this guy was a psychological professional. 

“The creep of the moment award goes to… One 43-year-old Dr Stanley Howard, a psychiatrist. Wife and 8-year old daughter. Started a centre for abused kids.”

“Yeah, well, one good deed doesn’t counteract more than a dozen murders and an obvious breach of professionalism, conduct and trust.” Piper got up and left, saying she needed fresh air. She inhaled. Hold. 1…2…3…Exhale. Inhale. Hold. 1…2…3…Exhale. Rolling up the sleeves of her blazer, she walked back in head clear. She’d catch this guy. She’d make him pay. And she’d give the victims the justice they deserve. And they had an address too.

The next few events went by quickly. Piper kept the 8-year-old busy while Emily spoke to the wife, who was shocked, to say the least. Spencer and Hotch pulled up to an empty lot where they were meant to find an office. Emily found the commercial property the wife owned downtown. The rest of the team drew up to the building with Howard renting out the fifth floor as his office space while Piper talked to the little girl about her favourite Disney movie. Hotch asked the psychologist to step down from the roof, and he did, taking a step off the roof 15 feet down to the pavement below as Morgan flinched and Hotch stared. Piper rubbed the little girl’s shoulder as Emily told her mother the news. Piper held the young girl close and gave the older woman the card of a child psychiatrist nearby should she need it. Hotch and Morgan were forced to examine their unsub’s body, noticing the dirt under the nails and his resigned profile of Hotch’s phobia. They ran to the basement to find a pile of dirt on top of a young woman’s body. She was still alive. Spencer breathed a sigh of relief.

Piper sat on the couch, her usual spot, with her usual blanket, her feet tucked in, reading the new Charlotte Brontë book she’d bought. Derek sat next to her, holding a cup of tea out for her. “You made tea?”

“Figured the attempt might cheer you up at least.”

“It did. I can’t wait to complain to Garcia about it.” Derek chuckled into his own cup of coffee.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

“You gonna profile me if I don’t?” She sighed at Derek’s deadpan face. “When people go into psychology, it’s for two main reasons.”

“Yeah, to understand the world or to help others do the same.”

“Yeah, well. You can guess why I picked psychology to major in. But this profession, people treat it like a game. Howard had a duty. A duty of care, and duty of knowledge. He was bound by the ethical code behind the mysterious world of psychology to care and protect his clients. He was bound to use that knowledge for good, for health. And he abused that privilege. So yeah, I’m a little angry at him and Derek, this may sound terrible, but I’m not all that bothered about his death either. The only person I feel bad for is his little girl. Is that a bad thing?”

“Look, I don’t know the first thing about moral philosophy. But the first time I met you, a young girl was scared about her town and you stepped up and consoled her. I think it’s because you care too much.” Piper smiled weakly at Morgan before sipping on her tea and gulping it down.

“Alright, don’t do that.” Morgan swooped in to take the cup only to be swatted away by Piper. “I know it’s terrible-”

“No, it isn’t. A little sugar fixes everything.”

“Wait, you’re meant to put sugar in tea?” If the blasphemy of his actions hadn’t dawned upon him yet, Piper’s fluid motion of setting down the cup, sweeping aside her blanket and using the literary masterpiece of Charlotte Brontë as a battering ram against his body until he yielded mercy did.


End file.
